


you have chocolate on your nose

by sunflowerwithfeelings



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adorable Steve Rogers, Baking, Dad™, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Superfamily, Tony Stark Has A Heart, making a cake for Peters birthday, tony stark is a dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerwithfeelings/pseuds/sunflowerwithfeelings
Summary: “Alright,” Steve rubbed Tony’s back with his free hand and kissed the top of his scalp. “Let’s do this. What recipe are you following?”“Twelve.”[Chinese]





	you have chocolate on your nose

**Author's Note:**

> cAn We tAkE a moment to appreciate the fact that when i typed in 'adorable' into the tags 'adorable steve rogers' was one of the first options?? what kind of pure goodness?? anyway i made a cake a couple of days ago and well, here we are.

  
Steve was worried, again. No one, including himself, had seen Tony in _days_. Before the two supers established a relationship, it was very common for this to happen, Tony disappearing for days on end. It was also common to catch him drunk on Sunday mornings.

Tony had of course abandon these habits once him and Steve had gone domestic, but now...now was when Steve started to worry.

All morning he stared at his coffee, black, waiting for it to say something, reassure him, change his situation? That's a lot to ask out of his morning coffee but he insisted anyway. The kitchen countertop was cold, it's marble perfection staring up at Steve. His fingers tapped nervously.

Just then his phone vibrated in his jean pocket. Quickly taking it out of his pocket, he saw it was from Tony.

 

 _ **I give up! I'm in the lab, pLEASE HELP ME**_.

 

By Steve's definition, ‘please help me’ never means good, especially from Tony who never says please to begin with. Forgetting his coffee, he bolted to the elevator, the quiet hum of elevator music making his spine crawl.

One of the lab doors had a splotch of a white powdery substance on its glass, red sirens screaming in Steve’s mind. A song he recognized as one of Tony’s favorite echoed from the back of the lab somewhere, the sound being quite distant. The floor around the entrance to the lab was coated thickly with the same powder, Steve’s footprints being visible as he stepped. Tony’s main lab table decorated with bowls, bags, and what appeared to be...eggs?

“Don’t mind the mess,” Tony called from wherever the music was coming from. Steve’s eyes darted around the find him or at least find where he would most likely be, the lab was bigger than it looked. Tony came walking out from the door in the back, the sound of the music following him into the room, it was some rock song Steve didn’t know lyric wise.

“What’s all this?” Steve asked stepping closer to the table. Connecting the dots, he assumed the stuff on the doors and floor was flour…..how did it get there? Best not the question it actually. Knowing that Tony got grease on the inside of his heels when he always wears shoes in the lab, Steve knew it best to not question things sometimes. Steve lifted a bag, the label saying sugar.

“As you know, Peter’s birthday is in a few days-”

“That’s what you’ve been doing?!” Steve asked, raising his eyebrows and cracking a smile. “Tony, you could of asked me for help before you got only what I can hopefully assume is to be flour all over the floor.”

“What do you think I’m doing now?” Tony asked.

Steve sighed but continued to smile. “Look…” Steve spotted a broom at the corner of the room and carefully stepped as to not make a bigger mess. He held the handle in his hand and looked back up at Tony. “I know this relationship we have is fairly new for both of us, but don’t be scared to ask for help Tony. You don’t have to do everything by yourself anymore. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, lord knows me.”

Tony looked at Steve with tired, doughy eyes, the distance between the two decreasing with every other word Steve said. Tony sighed and looked down at the floor, bringing his hands up and gently hugging Steve. The first contact between the two in what felt like forever to Steve. Of course he understood Tony needed to be by himself sometimes, everyone does, but the sudden detachment was hard.

“Alright,” Steve rubbed Tony’s back with his free hand and kissed the top of his scalp. “Let’s do this. What recipe are you following?”

“Twelve.”

“Twelve?! Tony, how can you be following twelve cake recipes?” Steve was utterly confused but knowing Tony, he had some reasonable, scientific explanation.

“Well, I want this to be perfect. So I went on Google and researched for almost a day on different recipes.”

“And what did the Google say?”

“It-” Tony tried his best to hold in a laugh, he seemed to be always caught off guard when Steve let his little quirks slip in. The Google, The Facebook, The Snapchat; it all made Tony laugh. “It gave me what were arguably the best cake recipes and what they had in common, the science behind it all and from twelve different recipes, I created my own.”

The concept of following twelve different recipes completely flew over Steve’s head but Tony’s reason made him shake his head, like the was almost convinced, but he shook it again. “No, Tony you need to choose one and stick with it.”

“But-”

“Look where following twelve recipes has got you! Flour is _caked_ all over the floor,” Steve smiled but continued on with his point once he got a chuckle out of Tony. “You have sugar all over the place and--is that an egg in your hair?” He reached out to try and see if it was but Tony backed up and nodded.

“You made your point! What recipe do you suggest?” Tony asked.

“I have one in mind, but we aren’t starting it till we clean this lab.”

“Steve we’ll just-”

“No exceptions! I can’t work in messy conditions.” Steve smiled, his kind of sarcasm.

“We both know that’s a lie but fine, we’ll clean.”

 

* * *

 

The lab looked so much better without the mess and Tony was reluctant to think that. Although he always knew Steve was a good influence.

Through cleaning, Steve figured out the reason flour was all over the floor before was because the bag had a huge rip down its side. Tony refused to say why but Steve had a hunch it was because he couldn't open the thick papers layers with his bare hands. What he would've given to of seen Tony struggling over a huge bag of flour just to have it ripped and spilled all over the floor.

“So what’s this mystical magical cake recipe that you know of?” Tony asked.

Steve knew Tony was expecting something grand, something extra because that’s just who he is. In all reality, it wasn’t mystical or magical at all. It was a cake recipe from a woman who lived in Brooklyn, New York, an Irish immigrant from another era. A Sarah Rogers.

“It’s, uh...a family thing.” Steve said, pulling out his phone and scrolling through its notes. This, along with a couple other things, are the only items from his past that he still has and voluntarily holds onto.

“Oh,” Tony acknowledged softly. He moved closer to the metal lab table as he waited for Steve.

Steve found the note and tapped on it, the ingredients and steps formatted neatly inside. Tony’s eyes washed back and forth over the text like it was something holy, something deserving of praise.

“It's perfect, we'll do it!” Tony said excitedly as he quickly pecked Steve on the cheek and skipped over to the fridge that was now fully organized.

“This only makes one cake though, I don't know how much you want to make-”

“I'm multiplying everything by six.” Tony called out as his face was deep into the refrigerator, carefully grabbing the eggs from the back.

“Six? How big are you making this?” Steve questioned.

Tony stood up straight and made his way back to the table, a carton of eggs in his hand. “Babe, you should know by now that I go big or go home.” He smiled at Steve and winked.

“I…” Steve felt a blush spreading rapidly over his face and chest, a heat wave.

“It's cute when you blush,” Tony joked. He twirled around and started grabbing various ingredients the recipe called for.

The music from early played again but this time it was a song that Steve knew. Tony was mouthing the words as he grabbed the vanilla extract from a shelf and placed it on the table.

Steve smiled and when he did, it seemed as though it were permanent. He was content.

Tony stood on his tiptoes and eyeballed the ovens dial pad. “What's the temperature I need to preheat the oven to?”

“Three-fifty.” Steve called out, his back bending down over the counter to look at his phone dimmed screen. A stand mixer was set to the side of him, a shiny silver whisk face first in a mixture of flour, sugar, cocoa powder, and baking powder.

“I need to grease the pans, can you finish this by yourself Tony?” Steve asked as Tony meandered back over. His gaze went from mixer to Tony who stuck his nose in the air.

“Yes,” He said confidently.

Steve walked away and grabbed the butter from the fridge. Of course, he hadn't taken five steps without Tony asking something again. Tony was treating this like a surgical operation, double checking with Steve on practically everything.

“What's the difference between a pinch of salt and a dash of salt?” Tony asked.

“A dash is one-eighth of a teaspoon and a pinch is one-sixteenth of a teaspoon. The recipe calls for a pinch so…” Steve trailed off.

“So there's three dashes in this recipe!” Tony called out excitedly. Steve was never good at multiplying decimals and then turning them into fractions, complex mental math, so he nodded and took it as right.

Steve set the greased pans on a separate table and joined Tony again, who was now breaking eggs. A whole twelve eggs.

“Before you add them to the batter, beat them. Make them fluffier and more evenly mixed,” Steve offered, picking up an egg and cracking it into a bowl.

Tony hummed and nodded his head. The metal fork scrapped the bottom of the bowl when Steve broke apart the eggs yolks from the white. Tony turned on the mixer, a light hum filling the room as Steve poured in the eggs slowly. The milk, oil, and vanilla following.

They both stood and watched the batter mix even with itself, streaks of different colors fading into the creamy brown chocolate. It looked good enough to eat right then and there.

A timer for five minutes went off and Steve grabbed a pot of hot coffee, slowly adding it to the batter.

“This should be good,” Steve stated firmly.

Tony went and grabbed the pans, the mixer being too big to carefully lift and Tony’s messy habits left Steve with spooning the batter into the pans with a large, ladle-type utensil.

As if switching into autopilot, Steve carried the pans and slid them into the oven, closing the door and sighing with a smile.

“Set the timer fooor twenty minutes then we'll check them.” There was a beep every time Steve pressed a number.

He turned around and looked at Tony fully for the first time in around five minutes. A speck of chocolate batter on the tip of his nose. Steve smiled.

Some things just never end, maybe for the better.

 

* * *

 

After managing to not cause a disaster whilst making the icing for the cake, Steve and Tony started stacking layer by layer of the grand cake. The faint hum of music, Steve didn't know what it was at the point, filled the room. Quick and soft kisses every now and then. Laughs. His phone vibrated.

 

**_Peter: Where are you guys?!_ **

 

Tony eyes the text, smiling. “Just tell him you're with me.”

Steve did and set his phone back down, the crumb coat of icing coming out smoother than he expected with Tony doing it. Then again, Tony was a perfectionist and only wanted, and deserved, the best.

Scooping a heaping spoonful of icing from the bowl, Steve started to spread the second coat on the very top, the smallest cake and down.

The cake, although undecorated, looked like a castle. It was completely white and bare, like a canvas ready to be exposed to color. Steve stepped down as he finished the final later.

“Looks good Love,” Tony praised rubbing the top of Steve's shoulder with the palm of his hand.

The right side of Steve's mouth hooked into a half smile, his arm wrapping Tony's back and bringing him closer. He kissed the top of his head.

“How're you going to decorate this?” Steve asked.

“I was thinking getting a bunch of candles, how many--like 12?” Tony's eyebrows lifted as he pressed his chin into Steve's neck.

“I think so,” Steve agreed smirking. Sarcasm.

“You smell sweet.”

“That's not creepy at all.”

“Oh shut up!”

**Author's Note:**

> Give kudos to the story if you think it's worthy! Also please leave a comment, those are much appreciated and very much so encouraged.
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> You can find me [here](http://queersunflowers.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


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